Page 56 of For Wrath and Redemption
I glance over at him. He exudescool. Too cool for me. A pair of knockoff Wayfarers shields his blue eyes, his bleached hair is once again pulled into a bun, and his hands are shoved in his pockets as he walks. He doesn’t take his eyes off the ground in front of him, and I find myself wishing they were on me. The desire crashes into me out of nowhere. It’s so surprising that I rip my attention off his profile and stare at the sidewalk.
Goddamn it.
We need to go back to not speaking.
“What did you think? Did you like it?”
I nod and keep it curt. “I did.”
“Belém is one of my favorite places to visit when we’re in Lisbon.”
“What?” The statement piques my curiosity, and even though I shouldn’t, I engage further. “You’ve been here before?”
“This is my fourth time. I like history.”
I shake my head, my brow furrowing as I let myself look at him again. “Why are we doing this, then?”
He smirks at the ground. “Sav said you’d never been out of the States. Thought you’d enjoy it.”
I blink at him, the kind gesture shocking me into silence, and then he finally looks at me.
“Did I think wrong?”
“Oh.” I shake my head. “No. No, this is great. Thank you.”
I love it,actually, but I don’t tell him that. I can’t. I shouldn’t. Then hehits me with a smile so wide, it gives me chills. I have to look away again.
“Good. I appreciate what you’re doing, Trouble. Even if you are a pain in my ass.”
I laugh, but I don’t respond. I don’t say anything. I don’t trust myself not to let my errant thoughts loose into the universe if I open my mouth. Every smile he sends me keeps me buzzing, though. Every time he nudges me with his elbow or throws his arm over my shoulders, my chest tightens, and it takes all my strength not to reach for him. Not to sink into his hold.
This is bad.
I just broke up with his father, and now I’m...I don’t even know. Crushing?
Am Icrushingon Jonah Hendrix? On my ex’s son?
No. No way.
I cannot stand this man. He is a liar. An addict. A slut. He’s spoiled and full of himself, and he thinks rules don’t apply to him.
He is quite literallythe worst.
I do not have a crush.
I’m just feeling dejected from the termination of my almost year-long relationship. That’s all. It’s off-centering to see Jonah not just cooperating but being kind. Being thoughtful. I’m vulnerable, and it’s nice to have someone paying attention to me.
It’s all surface-level bullshit, but it’s nice, even if it is coming from an asshole rock star with an attitude problem and an inflated ego.
I’m stewing in my thoughts—scolding myself and explaining away the stupid butterflies that keep trying to erupt in my stomach—when Jonah takes my hand in his. I narrow my eyes at him.
“What are you doing?”
He smiles down at me, then nods to the road we’re about to cross. “Safety first.”
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it through my sunglasses, but I don’t break the hold. His hand is warm and dominates mine. The calloused pads of his fingers reach almost to my wrist, and I can feel them pressing into my skin. Holding me close.
Safety first.
